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Jun 2013
It's like being in a warm vat of viscous fluid when you are here,
and like being in a hive of razor stinger bees with rabies when you are not.
Comfortable buzz of which no drug can muster.
You are better than opiates.
My face so bitter and coarse, glows like florescent tubing in a flaming wreck.
No tears,
no anger,
just magic.
Magic I can't ignore.
Magic I must conjure.
As sinful as Satan himself.
My bewitching *****.
Written by
David Walker  Ohio
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